If You Were Mine by Rebecca King Page A

remained with her for
a short time, patiently answering a plethora of questions as
frankly as he could. He would sit and converse with her for quite a
long time before taking his leave, ostensibly to allow her to
rest.
    By
evening they would dine together, when he would gently tease smiles
out of her if she was feeling decidedly glum, and patiently fill in
parts of her arrival at the house that she couldn’t remember.
Despite his generosity and kindness, she always considered there
was something he was waiting for, something he was withholding from
her, yet she couldn’t think of what that might be. Nor did she know
how to ask him.
    Maybe he
was waiting for her to vacate his bed? But he had placed her there
and wouldn’t consider moving her to a guest suite whenever she had
suggested it, so what could be wrong?
    Over the
past couple of days, she was aware of a growing expectation that
was driving her mad. Only this morning he had paid her a customary
visit only for the tension between them to be palpable.
Conversation, usually flowing and familiar, had become stilted and
awkward. It was as though both of them had things they wanted to
say, yet were loathed to broach the subjects they so desperately
needed to raise.
    She was
frowning thoughtfully at the heavy snowfall beyond the window, when
as though sensing her disquiet, he appeared in the
doorway.
    “ What’s wrong my dear?” Dominic queried, eyeing the
disgruntled scowl upon her face. He fought the urge to smile when
she turned her fierce frown in his direction. Clearly, she was
distinctly put out at something. Whatever had outraged her so much,
had given her the first tinge of colour to her cheeks that he had
seen since her arrival in his house. Her eyes spat shards of angry
blue fire as she stared moodily at him. She reminded him of a
disgruntled kitten. He knew that should he venture too far, he was
very likely to get scratched.
    Still,
he was curious to discover how far he could go before his kitten
scratched him. Swallowing his smile, he leaned a nonchalant
shoulder against the door jam and raised a sardonic brow. It was
good to see her positively bristling with temper. It was a sign she
was returning to good heath.
    Isobel
pointedly ignored his question, instead glared at his cheerfulness.
“You seem decidedly chirpy today,” she grumbled, eyeing his
windswept ruggedness as he slowly sauntered across the room. God,
he was handsome. Isobel eyed his tall frame as he casually wandered
towards her.
    “ I have a lot to be chirpy about,” Dominic replied smoothly as
he sat in his customary chair beside the bed. “What are you so
disgruntled about?”
    “ I am so very fed up of being in this bed!” Isobel replied,
giving in to a burst of temper. “It is time I got up.” Her scowl
deepened as he slowly shook his head.
    “ You are not ready yet. You may have a relapse or something,”
Dominic casually propped his booted feet atop of the covers she was
trying to pull back, firmly securing her underneath.
    Isobel
sighed, eyeing his booted feet with disdain. Briefly, she
considered thwacking his ankles until he removed them but eyeing
his long length sprawled so comfortably in the chair, she just
couldn’t find the heart to do so. Still, that couldn’t detract on
her dissatisfaction with her weakened state.
    “ I am more likely to have a relapse if I lay in this bed much
longer.” She knew she sounded waspish and ungrateful, but felt
driven by something that refused to allow her to settle. “I want to
get up. I have to
get up. It’s driving me crazy being stuck in here.”
    “ I can understand my dear,” Dominic replied sympathetically.
Given the length of time she had been recovering, he could fully
understand her mounting frustration.
    “ Can you?” Her tone was dismissive. She felt certain he
couldn’t understand just how sick of feeling useless she
was.
    “ Yes. When I was injured in Spain, I was tended to by the
locals. At first, I couldn’t move